Mom to an infant and two special needs stepkids seeks cathartic self-realization through humor.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Gross Out Alert

This is Apollo. He is a husky/lab mix - and I would swear to some greyhound because this dude can RUN. He is probably topping out around 80-90 pounds. We were allowed to bond with him at the humane society only to have some paper pusher tell us the next day that we would not be allowed to adopt him because we already had a cat and he has a "small prey drive." Essentially, they told us he would kill our cats.

Eventually, we were able to bring him home and the cats ARE in charge of this dog, who is generally a big baby that lets the kids lay all over him and pull on his ears. But this morning . . . oh, this morning . .

He is let out to sniff stuff and mark up his yard first thing every morning, generally between six and six-thirty because my little goo-goo head Bella is an alarm clock like that. She and I came down around and I planted her in the highchair, let the dog out and got the coffee started. After a bit, I tried to call him in and he didn't come. This is not unusual, he gets easily fixated and will disappear to various corners of the yard or into the garage or under bushes to chase things or bark at people walking by. But I ususally at least hear the jangle of his tags on his collar. So, getting pissy, I donned some sandals and wandered out into the yard. By now he should be mowing through the grass, ready to race around the yard at full speed to impress me. Nothing.

After a few moments I heard a slight jangle and circled the house, praying that he hadn't gotten out again because he's a runner that must be chased for blocks with bread and other treats, sing-songing his name so he doesn't think he's in trouble. I rounded the corner and saw him hiding behind the A/C unit with something in his mouth. Because he will eat any and all trash food I immediately assumed he had found a hamburger bun or something and was experiencing doggie bliss. It would help to interject that a few months ago we quit giving him any and all people food because he started getting horrible bouts of diarrhea, the smell of which was warfare-quality nastiness. Then I saw a bit of red and thought he had a bird and I started yelling for him to drop it. DROP IT!

Horror set in as I realized what was really going on. Beneath his paw was a headless squirrel and in his mouth was That. Squirrel's. Head. I ran at him screaming in horror - drop it! DROP IT! Now! NOW! Oh, don't you dare eat that omigod omigod omigod as I chased him - because he finally gave up on the parts beneath his paw - I could hear him crunching on the head and -

I had to quit chasing him because he kept running. I had to let him (gag) finish so I could get him in the house. I immediately woke Rich and told him that when Apollo regurgitates squirrel pieces later I will be LEAVING THE HOUSE. I called the vet and she confirmed that we will indeed be revisisted by the squirrel in some shape or form.

I will never be grossed out by a poo diaper again, no matter the volume or consistency.

UPDATE: I sent Rich out to retrieve the carcass - you see me being as clinical as I can because I finally choked down a banana so I could take my vitamins. He took Hunter out and in a few minutes they came back in with the claim that there WAS NO squirrel body out next to the air conditioner.

Bullshit! I say.

I went out and combed the yard for that thing, not really wanting to see it again but not wanting Apollo to find it later and claim it for dessert. I went to the original scene of the crime and all that was sitting there was a sad little squirrel paw. As for the rest of the yard - no squirrel body. So in the hour since I posted this it disappeared. WHAT IN THE BLOODY FREAKIN' HELL HAPPENED TO THE SQUIRREL'S BODY? Squirrel Scene Investigation. I'm not taking prints. I want nothing further to do with this whole thing. I quit.

KnowMe

I have a baby and a brain and an opinion. I like long sentences and walks on the beach. I haven't kept a journal for ages. I think I really need this. I'm not sure you do. Turn back now if you object to boobs or poop or tree-hugging liberalism.